they would have me design a super sweet invitation for an important event in your life. IF they REALLY loved you they would call me on the phone and say, “Hey, Fran! My name is Mr. Blee-Blah-Blah! I would like to demonstrate my love for my child by paying you to artistically interpret an upcoming event. Your design savoir faire is the ONLY match for the depth of love I have for my child. They have a (insert important event) coming up. Let’s do this.”
CLICK.
I’m just saying.
We created the following Bat Mitzvah invitation for a family that clearly knows how to express their love:
Collect them all (there’s only one) and store them safely in a polished mahogany box. Tabulated by topics, like: Division-of-Labor, Apology, and so much more!
Weren’t those lovely?
Once Upon A Time, I got a massage in September. It was from a hobbithe blessed the vessel that was me and scampered around the table like his footsies were on fire. When it was over, he requested a hug. I consented because I have never hugged a hobbit and I didn’t want to crush his tiny hobbit-heart.
I’m sure you knew that.
Ham!
Perhaps you recognize that man?
His pants are usually radioactive, but not for this card.
It was time to pry open the (heirloom-quality) tupperware lid. Time to expose the rotting and pungent living carcass to the unblinking eye of its critics.
Now, readership of the Zeichen Press blog hovers somewhere between cable-access viewership and meaningful Craigslist encounters.
